


The Brightest Witch of Her Age

by WarchiefZeke



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bellamione - Freeform, Dark Hermione Granger, Drabble, F/F, Points of View, Shell Cottage (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 03:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20594114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarchiefZeke/pseuds/WarchiefZeke
Summary: Resting in the Shell Cottage, Hermione ponders upon the events from the Malfoy Manor.And questions her commitments, of course.





	The Brightest Witch of Her Age

**Author's Note:**

> Uhm, so... this short story is for adults only. Kiddos - shoo. ;D

Shell Cottage, Cornwall, England

April 1998

She was supposed to be the brightest Witch of her age. 

Bollocks.

A brightest Witch of her age doesn't act like a sheep. She doesn't take everything for granted, doesn't go with the flow. She doesn't take words of everybody around her as gospel.

A brightest Witch of her age _questions things_.

Hermione may have extraordinary brains, but she does not have a backbone. She may be _intelligent_, but she is not _bright_.

What made her come to this conclusion, in the midst of the eighteenth year of her life? A year, that also happens to be shattered by one of the greatest wars known to the Wizarding kind?

One insane night. Shatterpoint.

Time period, no longer than a couple of hours; a turning point of her life.

Enhanced, red-filtered vision; each pain receptor of her body exploding simultaneously in response to the masterful Cruciatus Curse. An orgasm, powerful enough to fry her brain. Dark, dazzling, heavy-lidded eyes, sparkling fanatically upon her face, watching her writhing in insane ecstasy.

Now, all she has left from that fateful night, is the most precious, most delightful slur, engraved into her forearm.

That, and a completely altered way of looking.

At the people surrounding her.

At the ongoing war.

At the world.

Yes, Bellatrix Black Lestrange has turned Hermione's world upside down. She crushed Hermione into tiny pieces, only to built her up again. She filled Hermione's hazel orbs with miraculous eyedrops, making her see everything _differently._

Making her see things she has never noticed before, despite having them right in front of her face.

Like a raven-haired boy, the so-called _Chosen One_, groomed and cultivated, fed with big fat lies for over six years, only in order to become a human weapon. Like a ginger-haired boy in a desperate need for attention; sticking to the Chosen One like glue, riding his coattails without giving it a thought.

Like herself, tagging along these two poor boys, making a perfect third child soldier, topping up their informal group with her legendary wits.

Never, even for a split second, suspecting that she's being used and deceived.

Never. Despite being, supposedly, a brightest Witch of her age.


End file.
